Venetian Romance
by Necropolis demon
Summary: The year is 1718, Italian opera has swept Venice off her feet. Ryou Bakura, once an orphan was now the rising singing sensation. Seto Kaiba, son of a patrician has just inherited the fortune of the house of Kaiba. SXR ON HOLD
1. Prologue

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh, what you are about to read is a mere fanfic.

Necro: This story was partly formed by a play that I'm sure you've all heard of called 'The Phantom of the Opera', a few books I've read about Venice, a recent trip there, and the life of the early castrati teachers in the 1700s.

Venetian Romance

Prologue

Ryou Bakura was a gifted youth with a voice so painfully beautiful that if one were to hear him singing even the simplest of melodies, one would think that they've ascended to the heavens. Such a precious gift was given to this youth, the gift of heavenly music. For in his voice was a rapturous echo that made listeners weep at its sheer beauty.

But not only was Ryou so blessed with his voice but also, he was one with a face so innocent and childlike, much like a Botticelli angel's. His face held that look of elegance, pale and flawless, and utterly perfect. A pair of hazel eyes contrasted with his light image, contrasting in a way that their magnificence was drawn out even more and that they seemed to radiate naivety. Long white-blond hair so close to the hue of pure white framed the youth's delicate face, his bangs covering his forehead in a way that provided him with a mysterious air to his personality whenever he looked up at someone. With a body so lithe and smooth and so ravishing to the eyes, anyone would think that Ryou was the very image of a seraph. And that was exactly what he was to everyone who knew and adored him, an angel with a voice that could bring you to heaven.

Young Ryou was only 7 years of age when his father died, leaving him alone and vulnerable to the desolate world. His mother had long ago passed away along with his prematurely born sister in childbirth so he never really knew them. Though only a mere boy, ignorant of the evils of the world that lay ahead of him, Ryou strived and survived and made it as far as to become a famous opera singer though the road to success had been full of dead-ends.

After his father's death, he was sent to an orphanage and there the young prodigy began to mold his destiny. At this point in his childhood, Ryou had never really known that he could actually sing since his father had been a simple farmer without an interest in the arts. Nevertheless, the young cherub discovered his gift in the most unlikely of situations.

He had been crying again, in the bathroom all alone because one of the other older orphans had taken away his favorite toy, an old rag doll girl that was missing an eye; it had been given to him by his father when he was very little, and although it wasn't much, that doll was the last remaining possession he had to remind him of his father.

As the young boy sat there at a corner, hugging his knees to himself and mourning over the loss of his father's one and only gift to him, he began to sing a song he'd conjured from nowhere. The tune was soft, eerie at first and utterly monotonous, but as it rose in pitch it began to take a life of its own, rising and falling as Ryou wept.

Softly with a trace of despair, Ryou sang with his heart, making up words and tunes as he went. His voice echoed throughout the bathroom and as he sang his tears stopped falling. Unbeknownst to the young orphan boy, everyone nearby heard his sweet lament.

And that was how he was simply discovered; it was his very first song that had been his savior, taking him away from the gloomy barriers of the orphanage in which he would have rotted within its walls, never able to truly see the world beyond those all too safe doors.

A decade passed and the little orphan boy grew up be the most enchanting opera singer in all of Venice and quite possibly the whole world. He had grown to become the object of obsession of many admirers, and although Ryou was now a young man his voice never seemed to have changed.

He was not a castrato as most people believed him to be, and he was most definitely male in gender, but through the years his angelic voice naturally retained its innocence and softness. Never did his voice crack or seem to deepen with maturity but instead it remolded itself, turning into a soft and youthful but fitting tone of sound that very well matched Ryou.

Time was not cruel with Ryou's gift for music, and although he was now a young man with the voice of an older choirboy, it did not seem odd or unnatural to everyone. His façade fitted well with his voice, soft and romantic and utterly honest just as Ryou was. Many have said that Ryou was very fortunate, he did not have to become a eunuch and he was blessed with a voice that need not be controlled with the knife.

"Honestly, I am overly flattered by your praise Madame," said Ryou, his voice soft and kind, utterly pleasing to the ear.

The Madame smiled, the young soprano was always such a polite character, always feeling overly flattered at the simplest of praises. "Oh but you were simply amazing tonight, I could've sworn I was floating in the clouds as I listened to you performing that aria."

The singer blushed at the comment and smiled, "Thank you very much, I am glad that tonight's show was to your liking."

In truth, every show that Ryou performed in was always to everyone's liking, no one could ever hate a voice as pleasant as his. Amidst all the admiring opera enthusiasts and congratulating patricians a pair of stunning blue eyes watched as the star of the night smiled and beckoned for a servant to put away the bouquet of flowers he'd just received.

These eyes belonged to a young man standing at a far corner across from the precious singer. Along with those piercing eyes was a taut face so handsome yet devoid of warmth. The man's hair was neatly cut and was of a brown hue, clean and trimmed perfectly without a single strand of his bangs out of place. Pity he had such kissable lips that were curved into a stoic frown, just as his expression was that of a permanent scowl.

This gloriously striking youth was Seto Kaiba, eldest son of the patrician Gozaburo Kaiba who had passed away only a month ago due to an illness of the heart. Being the eldest son of a wealthy aristocrat, Seto inherited the right as the head of the House of Kaiba. He was a clever young man, even as a boy his tutors would gape in awe at his intelligence and Seto had many tutors; tutors in music and art, literature and arithmetic, politics and rhetoric were just a few to name of, but although he was the cleverest amongst the children of his father's friends, this genius grew up to be a misanthrope.

Although a misanthrope, Seto had a love for two things, his younger brother Mokuba whom he loved dearly above all others and the opera.

Now the singing sensation was slowly edging away from his devotees, politely excusing himself from the crowd, and saying that he was needed elsewhere, though in truth he only wanted to be left alone for a while. Ryou snuck away to one of the balcony seats overseeing the stage. Seto followed unnoticed.

Being the top soprano for five straight seasons had taken a lot out of Ryou, him being the best had been both a blessing and a dreary predicament. Word of his talent had spread like wild fire after his first night in the opera house and he had gained many admirers who, in fact, began to invite him to their private parties. Because Ryou had lived in such humble accommodations as an orphan, he agreed to attend and sing at these parties, not having the heart to decline.

Despite the fact that he was the shining star on stage, it was lonely being at the top where everyone could see you and praise you. The money and requests for encores were nothing to the luminescent youth. He was simply thankful to have been given the chance to sing.

"That was a wonderful performance," came a deep voice from the shadows behind Ryou. A silhouette of a tall man could be vaguely seen, his voice was fluid, graceful in its own maturity.

"I thank you kind sir," replied Ryou, "Might you be kind as to step forward for me, so that I may see you more properly?"

Obliging, the figure moved forward, revealing itself to the opera singer. There was something about this man that perplexed Ryou, those eyes, that voice, and that aristocratic stance.

"I am Seto Kaiba, Lord of the House of Kaiba."

News of the late aristocrat Gozaburo Kaiba's death had been a widely known conflict in Venice. The Kaiba family, as far as everyone knew, was one of the most powerful political families in the city, and it had been a known fact to all that the head of the family fathered only two sons.

"A pleasure to be acquainted with you," Ryou smiled then sadly added, "My condolences, Excellency, for your father's…passing," he said slowly.

A look in Seto's eye changed as he walked towards Ryou, "Excellency?" he raised a brow at this form of address, "You are quite modest for an accomplished artiste aren't you? I apologize for I seem to have misjudged you all along."

"Misjudged?"

"Yes, I first assumed that all leading performers were prima donnas who simply thought of themselves as superior amongst others." Explained Seto, "But you, on the other hand, are surprisingly different."

A blush made its way onto the pale youth's cheeks, Ryou faltered, "I-I…take it that you meant that as a compliment."

"That, I do."

The sound of approaching footsteps could be heard close by and from the shadows appeared another youth, though neither a child nor an adolescent but in between. Seto glanced behind to see that it was his younger brother who was there, waiting patiently to politely interrupt.

Mokuba was the boy's name, and unlike his older sibling he was more lively and energetic in life. With a naturally long and wild-looking black mane, and eyes wide with childlike wonder, Mokuba was the very opposite of Seto.

"Brother, so this is where you've been. I apologize for interrupting your conversation but we must be off," spoke the raven-haired boy.

"This is my younger sibling Mokuba," Seto gestured to the youth who moved to stand beside him, "my apologies for cutting our chat short. I believe that you will be starring in yet another upcoming play?"

"Yes, will you be there to attend Excellency?" asked Ryou.

"If your next performance will be as entertaining as tonight's then I suppose I will be." said Seto. With a slight nod of the head, Seto and his younger brother bid farewell to Ryou, but paused to look back for a moment.

"You may address me as 'Seto' Ryou."

Necro: Prologue done. I'm sure you guys have noticed the slight change of my writing style…yeah, I'm just trying it out and my old style didn't seem to fit the era of this story which I'm sure you know is set somewhere in the 1700s in Venice.

Also, I would like to say that I'm sure you all know that when a boy reaches puberty his voice deepens. In this fic I made Ryou retain an angelic voice. Yes, he did grow into a young man and yes his voice did change but it did not alter itself completely. There are some people whom I've met who are around 18 or so but they have voices that are pretty level, not too deep or manly, just level and sometimes when on the phone they sound female. So think of Ryou as one of those people.

In case there are some people who didn't understand a few words and terms I used, here are the meanings:

Castrato- in the past, a male singer who was castrated before puberty in order to retain a soprano or alto voice. (plural: castrati)

Eunuch- castrated male.

Aria- a melody sung solo or as a duet in an opera, oratorio or cantata.

Patrician- aristocrat (this term does not solely apply to Roman terminology and is still used today.)

Excellency- I was confused with using this, but in Venice, I'm pretty sure the lesser people used this as a form of address to the patricians.

**This is strictly experimental ok.**

**Review and tell me how it is.**


	2. Chapter I

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own YuGiOh.

Necro: I dedicate this to everyone especially to my friend who posts my chapters for me. My dear friend Heliopolis demon, you have been such a nice and understanding person.

Venetian Romance

Chapter I

The year is 1718, a time wherein men were dressed in frock coats, and women in corset dresses. Gentlemen aristocrats of the highest power wore white wigs in public as ladies powdered their faces, applying blush and scents to themselves, as it was proper. Italian opera was rising in popularity worldwide. Here and there, waterways and grand canals could be seen as common as roads. And as ordinary as the carriages were the gondolas that moved along the calm waters with their gondoliers, passing under the overhead bridges that connected the streets on land.

Seeing such beauty in motion with life could have made Ryou weep at the sheer simplicity and complexity of it all. Venice was truly an amazing city, full and plum and shinning in its wake.

Housing the sweet soprano during the remainder of his stay in Venice was the Mutou family, another respectable family in the city whose roots have stretched and aged as old as Venice herself. One can safely assume that the Mutou family tree has always been there, present in the past, and flourishing in the present.

Unlike the Kaiba family whose roots have almost completely abolished its existence, the House of Mutou was not just a single assortment, with its family members so numerous and stretched to regions as far as Naples, London, Paris and the distant New World.

Yami Mutou was next in line to inherit leadership to their family's name, seeing as his father had long ago died and his twin brother Yugi was the younger of them both. Currently, the head of the house was an elderly man who was Yami and Yugi's grandfather named Sugoroku, retired from his services to the military.

This family has always been patrons of the arts and they were overjoyed with the notion of having Ryou, the famous soprano, stay in their home. With open arms, they welcomed Ryou, showering him with warmth as if he were a member of the family.

"So, tell us more about this stranger you've met." Said Yugi. Yugi was almost an exact duplicate of his brother with his feral tri-colored hair with the colors gold, red and black in it that seemed hereditary in the line of Mutou males. The only differences between the two siblings were their height, their golden bangs, and the somewhat regal look reflected in Yami's purple orbs that were completely opposite to the naivety in Yugi's own boyish wide eyes.

The brothers and Ryou were in the Palazzo Mutou's Grand Salon, passing the time by having a little chat as Yami played songs with the harpsichord. It was a peaceful afternoon for Ryou, perfect for relaxation after last night's festivities, the wine might not have affected him but the continuous requests for him to sing did.

"Well, he was…not exactly a stranger. I'm certain you've heard of him." Replied Ryou, twisting a lock of his white-blond hair, "It was Signore Kaiba." He added, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly.

There was a sudden crash of notes followed by a death-like halt to the music playing. Yami had stopped, "…You mean the young Mokuba Kaiba of course?" he asked, brows furrowed.

Slowly, Ryou shook his head no, "No…I mean Signore Seto Kaiba, the one with those stunning blue eyes."

Yami and Yugi shared a look, whether it was confusion or bewilderment or annoyance Ryou wasn't quite sure until Yugi spoke, "Um…Ryou, are you certain this gentleman's name was Seto Kaiba?"

"I'm quite certain that was what he told me."

"And you say that he was…civil and charming when he spoke to you? Surely you were drunk last night!" Yami questioned incredulously. Clearly Yami was not too fond with the Lord of the Kaiba house.

"And he complimented you openly? No snide remarks at all?" came Yugi.

"He said he thought I was surprisingly different and was not the prima donna he first assumed me to be…does that count as a snide remark?"

The younger of the twin males smiled, "Well Yami, there you go, it was most definitely Seto." Said Yugi, "why, even his compliment has a tinge of sourness in it!" saying this, Yugi chuckled.

While Yugi giggled merrily, his brother on the other hand was still unbelieving. Yami had always known all about Seto Kaiba, and about the bitter life he'd been forced to live within the walls of the Palazzo Kaiba. Being the eldest son of Gozaburo Kaiba and having no other living relatives besides the young Mokuba, Seto had been kept under heavy guard, forced to live through a childhood in which his world revolved around the ones he'd read in books. Seto had never been allowed the freedom to roam in order to explore the city, and he had always been pushed to bury himself in books and studies. He knew nothing of the real world. He knew nothing of pleasure.

Gozaburo Kaiba had his eldest child locked away from the world in order to mold him into the ideal son and to secure that the heir to the Kaiba fortune would be no more than a living replica of his merciless father. Gozaburo wanted his immortality in the image of his son.

In Yami's eyes Seto Kaiba was so much like the late aristocrat for he seemed to have no positive perception of life in general and had not enough heart to feel warmth as we all feel it.

Seeing how Yami and Yugi seemed to think somewhat differently of Seto, Ryou inquired as to how they were acquainted with the mysterious gentleman, "May I ask as to why you both seem to…have different opinions of Signore Kaiba?" he asked.

"Well Ryou," Yugi started, "You see, we've known him since our early childhood when we would study together in his library, and you might say from our experiences that he wasn't so much as a normal…toddler…he had always been more of a…how can I say this? He was a- "

"Puppet." Provided Yami, receiving a confused look from the singer, "Seto was more of a lifeless puppet than a child, always stiff and stoic as he is now. He would play the harpsichord without frolicking along with the rhythm. He would entertain himself by torturing spiders in the attic, or at least that's what I think he used to do whenever he went up there."

"But surely you've found some plane of warmth in him? Perhaps he is a tad bit eccentric, he cannot possibly be as bad as you describe him to be." Reasoned Ryou.

Yami sighed exasperatedly, knowing that he couldn't expect Ryou to understand everyone's perception of Seto. "It is not our place to discourage your views of him, you are much better off personally befriending him and seeing for yourself who Seto Kaiba really is."

Though still curious, Ryou decided to simply leave the matter; it would be best for him to find out for himself than to interrogate the two. Odd as it may seem, the singer felt compelled to know more of this supposedly unfeeling knight.

Night came and cloaked the sky with darkness, filling the heavens with many magnificent stars sparkling like diamonds amongst the thin strips of clouds. The moon hid behind shrouds of mist here and there, reappearing once again to illuminate the city below. Sounds of the few gondolas moving along the streams of canals could be heard, and the light splashing of the oars in contact with the water seemed to hum quietly in peacefulness.

The lone figure of a certain opera singer made its way to the streets, hiding its identity with a black cloak that allowed the wearer to blend into the shadows of the night. Ryou walked on under the guiding light of the moon and oil lamps that lit the pathways. That night was perfect for him to explore, to see and wander throughout the splendid city and witness more of the cycle of life here at night.

Venice was different during the hours of darkness, tranquil and mystifying in a way that exhilarated Ryou in his escapade. Across the sturdy bridges over the canals, the youth strolled, admiring the beautiful architecture of the houses he had passed.

The presence of others made themselves known to the young explorer as a small group in a gondola passed by, the sound of their instruments playing as they sang songs of love.

"Musicians?" suspected Ryou. There were three men dressed in garments that clearly indicated their social status of being merely middle class or perhaps lower. The trio was moving along the waters, one was controlling the boat with a long wooden pole halfway submerged into the water while the other two were playing violins and singing songs to draw the attention of those few in their homes who were awake to listen.

Their music filled the air with melodies and words of love and togetherness, making Ryou feel like swooning and dancing along. So this was what it was like at night in Venice, street performers raised their voices and planted their bows to their fiddles, and although they were not as talented as those on stage they were magnificent in their own imperfection. Truly natural were these sounds.

Amused with the trio's antics, Ryou raised his angelic voice as the two singers who were also playing violins sang in a low pitch rising higher. Such sweet melodies spurred by the new vocalist melted the hearts of those who listened above, silhouettes of people in their upper rooms could be seen swaying and dancing along with the romantic air. The two amateur tenor musicians stared in shock at the singing cloaked figure approaching them with such graceful steps.

Suddenly the one rowing the vessel halted and docked the gondola on the edge nearest to Ryou in invitation. Smiling silently, Ryou boarded the vessel, making sure that the hood of his dark cloak was still in place.

At once the trio moved onward, eager to know more of this stranger who hosted such a heavenly voice. "My name is Tristan and these are my two friends Joey and Duke" said the gondolier, he had short black hair that had a slight point to it and eyes that showed power and strength although his physique was of a normal build like his companions.

The vocalist named Joey had a friendly grin that matched his fiercely loyal eyes and his hair was a fair blond unlike Duke who had a long black mane that was tied in a ponytail. While Joey's eyes were brown and gracious, Duke's were a beautiful jade-green color that emanated slyness but was to be trusted.

These people were warm and welcoming, making Ryou feel utterly open to them, "My name is Ryou, please, I ask of you not to pry further for that is all I can give you. That and my voice perhaps." Said Ryou. Obliging, the trio asked no further questions as they urged Ryou to sing with them.

Forward they went on, once again resuming their act with the addition of the great male soprano's voice, making listeners above weep at such intricacy heard with every swelling note that came from the mysterious third. Coins were graciously thrown out of windows as payment to the performers. But not long after the singers were awarded with gold, a single tulip made its way on board the passing gondola as a sign of gratitude from one of the unknown listeners in the audience, this was followed by another flower and then another until it all but seemed as if the clouds were pouring a rain of exotic flowers. Daisies were mostly given, as they were more common, but once in a while an orchid or lily would land softly by Ryou's feet, making the singer smile and once again raise his voice to form another precious sound.

In his bedchamber, Seto Kaiba was occupied with reading verses from Ovid's _Metamorphoses_, storing in his memory a particular quote he had read about the human mind. He had always admired the great and influential Roman poet Ovid, who was highly proficient in rhetoric, and thought that it would have been a wonderful dream to have lived in the legendary empire that was Rome.

But then, he thought, it would have been difficult to do so as a politician in those times in which those whom you thought were allies could take your life, blinded by their jealousy of your power. Like Julius Caesar who was slain in broad daylight by one whom he thought was his companion. Those had been such tragic times, conspirators and assassins could have dined with you in the same room, eating your food and drinking your wine all the while plotting against you.

A lady from outside was shouting 'magnifico' over and over again at someone in particular, forcing Seto to turn towards the source of nuisance. The sounds of cheers and the sight of flower petals in the air outside interested him, enticing him to look out beyond the window and see for himself the cause of this sudden commotion.

He saw a gondola with four men in it, or at least that was what he guessed the cloaked stranger in the group was, passing by and pocketing the gold coins thrown at them by spectators. For what were those coins, Seto did not know, until the cloaked figure opened its mouth to sing.

This was pure rapture, this stranger's voice, rapture that seemed to envelop you in a blanket of silk that was smooth to the touch. Like the feel of cool water from a river slipping through idle fingers.

"Such an amazing virtuoso" Seto whispered in awe to himself as he watched others in their homes throwing even more flowers and coins to the performers below.

That voice, he had heard it before and was familiar with its owner, but then he thought that the sensational opera singer wouldn't stoop to such a level as to give out free performances on the streets. The possibility of Ryou doing such an act wasn't likely, as a star wouldn't shine on the ground but in the sky, distant from mortal grasp.

Seto pondered as he observed the disguised virtuoso who was admiring a bouquet of yellow roses, he also felt that offering a token of gratitude was in order. Thinking of a way to give something, Seto rummaged through his coin pouch and thought of throwing out a few coins. He did so. And yet, that did not feel adequate enough.

A vase full of red roses caught his eye. He picked out one from the bunch that was in full bloom, red and healthy, and perfect like that singing voice. And scribbling a quick message on a small piece of paper, he tied the note to the rose then sent it towards the approaching gondola, making the flower land by the soprano's feet.

Ryou gently picked up the rose with the note, wondering from whom it came as he looked up to see the many faceless shadows of his admirers. He opened the slip of paper and read:

_You are surprisingly different_

A tinge of red close to the hue of a rose petal made itself apparent on the soprano's porcelain cheeks. Ryou was certainly flattered by this sender's short comment although it did not clearly stand out as a compliment, but nevertheless it was a gracious gesture if it was indeed intended to praise.

These words were written in a sense of pride, much like the way a recently acquainted son of a patrician would do so, much like Seto Kaiba would do so. Then again there were a hundred more people who would write such, coincidences were not uncommon so Ryou merely dismissed the idea as his fantasy conjured by the sentiments of that moment.

Ryou never even bothered to ask his fellow musicians about where in the city they were rowing along, if he had, he would have known that they had just passed by the Palazzo Kaiba which was the home of the one person he had found so captivatingly debonair.

Necro: I hate making OCs so I threw in Tristan, Joey and Duke as the musicians. And I'm kind of ashamed to admit this but…it has always been a fantasy of mine to row along in a gondola at night and sing to people who would, in return, throw flowers and money…then some mysterious gorgeous guy would throw me a red rose with a note that has a romantic poem in it for me. I guess I'll have to settle with having Ryou pursue that dream.

I don't know what kinds of flowers are common in Venice so I just winged it all.

Terms and expressions or notes:

Signore- this is a form of address that's sort of like 'monsieur' in French or 'mister' in English. They're in Italy so I used 'Signore'.

Grand Salon- this is a fancy term for a living room or recreational area in a big Italian house.

Palazzo- it's a great Italian building for residence. (They say 'Palazzo Kaiba', Palazzo is sort of like a title or something and then you add the family name of the family living in the building)

_Metamorphoses_- was written by the Roman poet Ovid, 15 books I think, if my memory serves me correctly, compose this. Ovid was known for his skills in rhetoric, and sadly in his later years he was exiled to Tomi, in the Roman province of Dacia (today's Constata, Romania)

Julius Caesar- I'm sure you guys know him but incase some of you don't I'll explain. He was a powerful Roman general and statesman who contributed a lot to Rome. Conspirators, one of which was his friend Brutus who was convinced by a jealous Roman senator named Cassius killed him.

Necro: It takes me longer to write things in this writing style and I'm sorry for that. I'll try harder so I'll get used to my new format and get things done faster. Also, I've always loved Rome and just couldn't resist putting bits of it here by making Seto like that sort of stuff.

**Review and tell me how it is…just please don't be too harsh because I bruise easily.**


	3. Chapter II

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh and never will.

Venetian Romance

Chapter II

Another night of enchanting music awaited the citizens of Venice, for tonight the great male soprano Ryou Bakura would be performing on stage. It was to be his last performance for the season and as a result everyone was keen on seeing him in his final performance lest they have to wait patiently for another year to hear the angel's voice again.

Without doubt, Seto Kaiba was there to attend, sitting in a high private box that was nearest to the stage. Accompanying him was his younger brother Mokuba who was just as eager to listen to some true talent. It has been long since a captivatingly stunning voice entered Venice, Rome has always been the center of art and opera, enticing great performers to head for the Eternal city to make their debus instead of Venice or Florence or some other place. Ryou's talent was indeed a very welcomed change for Venice, as the local performers had started to bore audiences.

Opera enthusiasts quickly settled themselves in their seats, waiting in anticipation for the performance to start. Tonight, Ryou would be singing the soprano aria 'Piante ombrose' of Francesco Cavalli's _La Calisto_.

Soon after the preludes were done and the performers had set to frolic and prance on stage in their minor roles, the true star of the night emerged powdered and dressed in fine clothes and laced sleeves. Ryou's purely white frock coat seemed to glimmer under the light and he seemed luminescent in a sense that was almost unearthly to be real.

On stage, his lithe features were the embodiment of illusion. And his voice, oh, was purely sensual to a point that one would, and surely enough everyone was, weeping to its splendor.

The angel opened his mouth and lulled the audience to dream, coaxing tears from their eyes and feelings deep inside to arise from the depths of their hearts. That voice was then intensified and reshaped, its greatness increased tenfold on stage. It was completely different yet the same as the mystifying nightingale that sang along the Venetian canals at night. The listeners, they couldn't seem to recall hearing this singing before, for it has changed as Ryou changed and transformed into the famous soprano he was on stage.

He was different on stage and on the calm waters, on the pedestal he was a performer, an entertainer and portrayer of roles. But out in the open he was a lover of poetry, a lover of nature's natural essence, he seemed more raw yet striking in the streets, but within the theatrical world he was what the people adored as a celebrity.

Not even the most knowledgeable of the opera enthusiasts could recognize this voice to be the exact voice they'd heard at night as they slumbered quietly in their abodes. But amongst the crowd of spectators and admirers, Seto knew for certain that this angel on stage, whose voice was astounding listeners, and the angel he had heard and had given tribute to at night were one.

And it did not surprise the young aristocrat to find the vocalist eyeing him heartily with every turn and sidestep made, for certain the white-clad youth was suspicious about the identity of the red rose's sender. This thought of the singer thinking of him made Seto smirk; it was pleasing to know that Ryou had instantly thought of him.

Once again the 'Angel of Music', as Ryou was often called, astounded the audiences with his flexible vocals. His performance for the night surely made an everlasting impression upon those who had witnessed it.

A gathering of sorts took place at the Palazzo Mutou afterwards, and every loyal devotee of Ryou's was there to chat and mingle with the idolized youth. As people shook hands and nodded to each other in introduction, the center of attraction deliberately edged away from everyone towards an empty open balcony in another room. Once alone he sighed exasperatedly, thinking of Seto and hoping to speak with him.

"Why do you flee from those who worship you?" a familiar shadow near the soprano inquired. Seto emerged from the obscuring darkness to face Ryou under the light of the moon.

A smile made its way onto Ryou's lips at the aristocrat's presence, "Excellency, I'm glad you came." He said, in a giddy way that made him seem more the admirer and Seto the admired.

"Call me 'Seto', I've already allowed you to," replied Seto, "Tell me, why do you flee from those in that room who idolize you?" he asked once more, watching the singer take a moment to pause and think of a suitable answer.

"They love me for my voice and I love them for that, yet I cannot help but feel as if I've wronged those whom I've trampled upon, those dreaming castratos who may hate me for this talent of mine. You all see my voice as a gift…I see it as a curse as well."

Seto frowned at this reply, "don't be daft, it's not your fault that you have been blessed with this talent. You grace the audience with this 'curse', those who dream to reach as high as you have must not loathe you if they wish to grasp greatness." All this was spoken in a tone of regality, stern as if lecturing.

There was a moment of silence between the two as the night sky lay witness to their talk of dreams and aspirations and cursed men. It was not wrong to be born a soprano yet it seemed against all of man's law to be born as a man with the voice a tenor could only dream of.

During these times, young boys whose singing voices were capable of the reaching highest of notes were 'cut' as they call it before they reached a point of manhood in which hoarseness makes its way to a young boy turning into a man. The knife gave castratos their talent yet it took away their masculinity. Castratos were ridiculed as half-men, as they were eunuchs with only one path in life.

"I feel guilt for being born an 'angel' as they call me…I am a man not a castrato, a full man. Because of this I have not suffered through the hells of castratos, which is why they loathe me for having this gift which they had to sacrifice their maleness to obtain." Sadness came over Ryou as he spoke these words; he believed this to be true, he felt that he had not suffered enough to be showered with such blessings.

"Here you are, loved by many…yet…you weep in turmoil," said Seto. Ryou smiled, there was a tinge of warmth and compassion in the way the aristocrat had spoken.

It was truly sad, the ordeals that castratos must endure, and the losses they've had to deal with in order to sing for an audience that could or could not love them as they so desperately yearned to be loved. The pair stood quietly side by side, basking in the cool night breeze as they watched gondolas passing below them. Seto broke their silence.

"I know it was you," he said bluntly, receiving a confused look from the soprano.

"What is this act that you accuse me of?"

Blue eyes met with wondering hazel ones, "I know it was you whom I've heard singing during that one lonely night. It was you who was the cloaked stranger, do not toy with me, and do not deny this…for I have heard you in both ways; as a troubadour and as this masking idol you stand here as." He then smirked, "did you honestly think that no one would suspect the slight changes you make when singing? Oh but in this city there are always those who will notice, one of which happens to be me."

The accused gave a sigh, knowing that his secret was revealed, "And here I was, thinking that I had perfected the art of deception. I applaud you…Seto." And applaud he did, "Have you been sharing this secret with others? I dare say, please don't."

"I have not and will not if that is what you wish, but I must ask for something in return." Smugly, Seto answered with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Ryou tensed as gentle hands made their way onto his shoulders, holding him in place like a fragile figurine as he trembled unconsciously. This touch, it was tender and nurturing, could Seto truly be cold and unfeeling as others have claimed him to be? Ryou thought not. He relaxed as the hands slithered down the path towards his arms then reached his wrists, delicately grasping then releasing to hold his own hands. Such touch was smooth and gliding, so loving and kind. Seto bent forward towards the singer's neck all the while holding the youth's hands in his.

"Sing for me." He then whispered to Ryou's ear, his warm breath tickling and eliciting a small surprised gasp from Ryou.

At the stroke of midnight two cloaked figures emerged from where they hid in the darkness of the streets, meeting one another on a small footbridge that overlooked a minor stream of the Venetian canals. The houses in this part of the city towered overhead, casting shadows upon the pair as they made their way towards a familiar gondola docking at a corner.

Joey looked up to see not one but two cloaked strangers boarding the vessel, the first he was vaguely familiar with but the other he was clearly not. He raised a brow at this second unexpected guest who, in return, glared back at him from under a veiling hood.

"Ryou," addressed Duke, the name feeling foreign to him as he had not ever had the chance to use it before, "Who is this friend you've brought? Another talented voice perhaps?" he asked hopefully.

"Are you a soprano as well?" Tristan asked the disguised patrician. Now the gondola was moving along the secluded canal and making its way to a vast waterway that led to another part of the city.

"Or are you his brother?" Joey continued sarcastically.

"I am neither." Seto replied gruffly as it has been a habit of his superiority complex, his voice sounded masculine and absolutely far from being soprano.

The three musicians flinched at the menacing tone but said nothing; they did not want to frighten away Ryou by insulting his companion, although Joey felt very much compelled to push the rude one overboard without Ryou noticing, and perhaps he would have had Duke not pulled him away from the man.

In just a few minutes they had returned to the same neighborhood where they first encountered Ryou, the performers went to their places in the middle of the vessel while leaving their lead the spot up front. Seto sat quietly to watch.

They went with a somber tune then progressed to a more lively melody for Ryou to play and spin his lyrics with, all their songs for that night's act were to be based on what Ryou wanted which of course meant that they would be singing romantic hymns. The troubadours did not know this but despite the fact that the soprano was singing for all to hear, the words in his songs were distinctly meant for the patrician sitting near and watching him. Seto did not mind having others hear the captivating virtuoso, the knowledge that this voice was performing especially for him was enough to satiate his ego.

After instantaneous singing the performers rested in order to catch their breath and relax their vocals. Duke and Tristan were diligently counting all the gold coins they had accumulated from their performance, ignoring the many flowers onboard, while Joey checked on their violins to make sure that each string was in perfect pitch but mostly because he wanted to stay at a side far from Seto. Ryou helped himself to a seat beside Seto who seemed unfazed about their escapade.

"Did you not enjoy my singing?" Ryou asked softly, saddened to see that the person he was trying so desperately to impress seemed bored and unaffected with his music, "Was…was it not to your tastes? I-I was careful in choosing the words for my lyrics…did you perhaps expect something more avant-garde? Oh dear of course you did! I didn't mean to disappoint-" Seto gently pressed a finger to Ryou's mouth, shushing the rambling.

"You were, as always, magnificent, Ryou" interrupted Seto, "…I simply have a different way of reacting to your music."

The soprano observed how Seto who, at first, was sitting poised and refined was now slightly slouching by a mere fraction, as if the tension in his body was loosened and he seemed more relaxed and comfortable with his surroundings. So this was how Seto reacted to music, he was the sort to unwind after being so conformed like all aristocrats are seen as.

Duke, having finished counting his share of the gold, approached the conversing pair, politely interrupting before taking a seat across Seto, "So stranger, we haven't had the chance to properly introduce ourselves yet, I am Duke, that's Tristan, he doesn't sing much-" He gestured towards Tristan who looked up to give a momentary bow.

"And that there is Joey, he and I are mostly singers but once in a while we play our violins as well." He added, pointing at the blond who was still obviously harboring a sense of hate for Seto, "By what name may we call you stranger?"

The disguised patrician took a few moments to think before answering, "Seto, simply Seto will do." He supplied, using his real name.

"Seto eh? What a coincidence! We've just passed the home of a man who has the same name as you." Tristan who settled himself beside Duke spoke.

At this, Ryou's suspicion raised once again, having recalled the matter concerning the unknown sender of the red rose with a note he had received. He glanced at his companion, watching the seemingly knowing expression on the man's face that gave the image of hinting that it was indeed he who had sent the flower. But Ryou couldn't immediately assume that as if he were some love-struck maiden, this was not some sort of romantic story in which such things could link together to form an impractical scenario.

And yet he hoped, this was Venice, a city that practically emanated an air and feel of being in love, every corner and crevice of this beautiful setting was a perfect frame for a passionate portrait. Then again, he would not allow himself to let his expectations soar too high as he would not have enough courage to deal with the disappointment.

Oh fantasy…such a fickle friend you are indeed.

As Seto watched the saddened expression the soprano was unconsciously displaying, an idea formed in his mind. "Ryou, I am growing weary of this, the night has been long and I resent having to say that I need to rest for tomorrow." He spoke firmly.

Realizing that it was indeed past their curfew considering the fact that midnight had passed minutes perhaps hours ago and they had had an agreement of staying out for just a few minutes, Ryou blushed, embarrassed at having kept the certainly busy patrician out for so long already, "I apologize…I didn't notice how time has flown." He said then spoke to Tristan, "Excuse me, I say it's quite late already, everyone must surely be fast asleep now, may I suggest that we now put an end for tonight?" he asked the gondolier politely.

"Yes, it's past our usual hours, us having started on midnight and all. Might as well go to sleep and sing another night." With that, Tristan steered the vessel towards the ledge of a docking area, dropping off the two cloaked youths before setting off once more with the musicians giving a friendly 'goodnight'.

Feeling guilty for having kept the aristocrat out for so long, Ryou courteously offered to accompany Seto on his way home to the Palazzo Kaiba, which Seto accepted. Along the quiet and empty city streets, the pair ventured on, not finding a single carriage or anyone out in the open around that time of the night. Faint sounds of flapping wings from early flying birds could be heard just as a light flicker of light from oil lamps could be seen, the cool breeze brushed against Ryou's skin, making him unconsciously shiver at the strangeness of it all.

The eerie monotonous sound of their footsteps was making the singer nervous, he moved closer to Seto who was walking prominently ahead of him, unconsciously allowing himself to bask in the feel of safety that the man possessed. He did not pay attention to where they were or for how long they had been walking, all he knew was that with Seto he felt as if the world could not touch him.

There was a pause, Seto had stopped, Ryou stopped as well; they were now standing before an obscure back entrance probably for the use of the servants and errand boys. Stealthily, the two entered, locking the door behind them without making the slightest of sounds. Why they were being cautiously sneaky was beyond Ryou as he had no idea on why he was brought inside Signore Seto Kaiba's home, he had only planned to accompany Seto through their walk and had not thought of entering the grand abode. But before he could utter a sound to protest his entrance, Seto had taken hold of his arm and was leading him through the dark spacious halls of the Palazzo. The sound of their treading echoed softly throughout the stillness.

Pushing back the last of the pairs of double-doors they had passed throughout the different rooms, they found themselves in a spacious bedchamber with a balcony that held a breath-taking view of the city and night sky that looked as if it were all painted perfectly with great care. Ryou gasped, it was a truly fine room with its red curtained poster bed and intricately carved furniture, and he had never seen so many books in a person's bedroom!

Even in the dark and dimness of the late hour, the artfulness of the quarters could still be appreciated, though not as much is it could be during the day. Oh how brilliant would the colors in this room look if it were daytime.

Roses, red roses were scattered on a study table as if someone had been fussing over them in search of something. There were four of them lying there on the desk, their vase forgotten and a piece of hastily torn paper could be seen where a book lay open. Surely these were remnants of a person's rushing.

"Do you know why I chose to give you a red rose?" came Seto's deep voice from behind the contemplating youth, hovering over the softly blowing wind, his bangs swaying as the balcony curtains danced along.

"So it was you who gave me that flower, and the note, I had primarily suspected you but…well, one shouldn't dream…"

"Red…oh, what color of passion it is, bursting life in blood and such intensity…beautiful, yes?" Seto spoke softly, clear eyes gazing at the embodiment of divine perfection, "Your song, that voice…that sound…never has anything else roused such…feelings from me. I know not what this feeling is, you may call it as you will…It has been long since I've been passionate with something if I have ever been…there's something in you, about you, I can't seem to relate as to what it is though…" he drifted, having spoken enough as a dreamer.

Yami's words rang in Ryou's mind as he remembered what he was told about the emotionless being that was Seto Kaiba. How the bitter youth could feel nothing but frigid emptiness, and how he would dwell in his personal dystopia. Seto did not know what to feel, he indeed knew nothing of pleasure and freedom. And this disgruntled him to no end.

"Thank you." Ryou replied, "Really, you have no idea how happy you've made me feel with these praises of yours, I cannot describe to you how much I wish to shower you with gratitude. And you've been honest, one cannot find honesty such as that which you posses." He said, warmth tracing every syllable and such love trickling with every word spoken with benevolence.

The composed façade never left Seto's expression and he still seemed as if he were an unfeeling statue, "I tell you these truths as they are truths." He replied simply.

"And I thank you for that. Showing that you feel as I sing makes me all the happier."

A moment passed between them as they eyed each other carefully, one with appreciation and warmth for being praised, and the other with guarded defenses that were ever so slightly beginning to crumble and release a gentle stream of tenderness and affection.

Both of them had the same question in mind, longing for an answer: 'Who are you really?'

Necro: This chapter is a tad bit longer than the previous one. I hope it goes well for everyone. I'll just tell you this right now ok, I don't really have a main plot for this, I haven't thought of anything for this story and everything you're reading is all just randomly thrown parts that were revised to make sense.

I would like to take this opportunity to once again apologize for the slowness of this fic, as soon as I finish a chapter I immediately post it so it's all pretty disorganized, sorry.

Notes and explanations:

Rome- is known as the Eternal City; capital of Italy. Before, when castratos were making their opening debus on stage they usually went to Rome because all the fine artisans and opportunities were there.

Piante ombrose- (Ah, Shady Groves) is a soprano aria from Francesco Cavalli's _La Calisto_.

Pietro Francesco Cavalli- (1602-1676) he was an Italian composer who made opera a popular form of entertainment. I distinctly remember reading something that said that twenty-seven of his operas survived through the years.

_La Calisto_- also known as plain _Calisto_.

Avante-garde- means "unique"

'Angel of Music'- this is in no way intended to be related with the Phantom of the Opera's own 'Angel of Music' ok, in this story it's just a little nickname thing.

Castaratos- I'll explain this one more time in more detail. During a young boy's years wherein his voice sounds young and beautiful for singing in a choir, he is 'cut' otherwise known as castrated which means he gets 'fixed'. The 'cut' is performed in hopes of preserving that young angelic voice and it does work but in some cases the boy still matures and acquires the masculinity of a man's vocals. It's either the voice stays as it is or the boy still naturally acquires masculinity though he is cut, the downside for both of this is that he will never be able to sire children ever. Now you guys know how hard it is for a boy to become a castrato, he really doesn't know until the time comes whether his voice stays or goes and he still can't reverse things after being 'cut'.

NOTE: I've just discovered that this story is not in the Euroshipping C2 even though it is clearly SETORYOU, so if someone could be kind enough to get this story archived there, please do. I've been informed that the manager of the Euroshipping C2 goes by the name **Relinquished**, there are also staff members that you can contact about this matter. I would personally email a staff member if I could, but as many of you know, I don't have internet access and I'm usually busy. I would really like to see this fic in the **Euroshipping C2**, so please offer your assistance.

**Reviews are welcomed gifts so don't be shy and send them over. I would love to hear from everyone. But please, I kindly ask you not to flame and/or insult me…because that would be simply mean.**


	4. Chapter III

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I am specifically stating to you, the reader, that I do not own YuGiOh.

Venetian Romance

Chapter III

When one is asleep the very first thing they tend to notice upon regaining consciousness is the slight illumination from the outside world that shows through their closed eyelids. Sounds and movements then make themselves known to the sleeper until finally the drowsiness drains away to be replaced with awareness for one's surroundings. Eyes then open and see what the mind has already seen.

What met Ryou's sight when he awoke from slumber was exactly what he had dreamt of, subconsciously he had felt the comfortable cushions and the warm blanket over his form, and somehow he was aware that the sunlight from outside was beaming radiantly over his smooth cheeks before he even had the chance to peek. For certain, upon seeing where he was at the moment, he was positive that last night had not been a dream or fantasy of his.

For indeed, he had gone to Seto Kaiba's home last night, and indeed he had discovered the identity of the mysterious rose sender he so desperately wished to meet. And also, he fell asleep in the aristocrat's bedchamber, though how exactly, he could not recall but he could taste a faint trace of red wine in his mouth.

Flitting scenes from last night played in his head, he remembered the strong arms that carried his body to this comfortable bed he was laying on, he could remember the gentle hands that glided over his drowsy eyes, eliciting them to close for him to dream.

He could remember Seto putting him to sleep.

Upon full realization of where he was and had been staying for the most of last night, Ryou immediately sat up from bed, blinking the sleep away and dashing towards the nearest exit. How could he have been so improper as to stay in the man's home for the night in such short notice? And to sleep in that man's own bedroom nonetheless!

Preposterous! This was not how a proper icon and role model was supposed to behave. Incredulous indeed! Ryou could just imagine the look on Yami and Yugi's faces if they were to ever discover this incident.

Bare feet were making their way through the hallways of the Palazzo, making contact with the coldness of the marble floor. Ryou scurried from room to room in search for someone, anyone at all, to speak to.

"Ryou?" a child's voice from behind spoke, the singer turned to see the younger Kaiba sibling carrying with him a violin and a bow. The boy was in a generally ordinary brown coat that wasn't much for show but for home, and his hair was worn freely over his small shoulders.

Ryou couldn't think of anything suitable to tell the young boy about his presence in the Kaiba home, internally he debated with himself on what he was going to do, "Hello…Mokuba correct?" he simply replied, having struck not a single idea.

"Good afternoon, I see that you're finally awake," the boy said with a grin, as if the soprano was an expected guest, "My brother's in the Grand Salon, I assume he's been waiting for you so you better make haste then, he's not a very patient person and I must return to my violin instructor before he starts ranting about how incompetent I can be." With a grin the raven-haired youth left.

Once again making his way through the huge Italian house, Ryou finally made it into the Grand Salon where Seto was lounging comfortably on a reclined wooden seat with detailed carvings that suggested a more classical design. Although dressed in a somewhat modest black frock coat not meant to be extravagant, Seto still held the image of being a high-class Venetian prince, indeed it was not the clothes that make the man.

"Just woken up haven't we?" the aristocrat drawled to the disheveled-looking idol standing by the entrance, "It's not proper for one to wake up at noon." He said, smirking sarcastically at Ryou.

Ryou smiled in return, "Well, that mostly applies to ladies Signore, but yes it is rather improper for me to wake up so late for breakfast."

"And you haven't even combed or dressed yourself appropriately." At this statement, Ryou immediately set his eyes upon himself, finally processing in his mind the fact that was in a simple green robe tied around the waist, wearing absolutely nothing underneath.

"Gah! My-my clothes I! I'm…nude?!" he exclaimed loudly, immediately trying his best to conserve as much little decency he had left. From where he sat, Seto shook his head to chase away the mocking expression threatening to show, sighing at the soprano's obvious embarrassment.

"And you've just noticed that now?" the patrician teased further, a slight bark of laughter escaping him and making his shoulders shake for a moment. He ran a combing hand through his hair and smirked.

"Oh shut up!" blushing as well as adorably pouting, Ryou turned his head away from the taunting aristocrat, "Really now, you can be extremely vile Signore! Never have I ever been-"

Seto's facial expression hardened upon hearing the last remark, a nerve was stuck deep within the depths of his heart at the supposedly inoffensive jest Ryou had made about his character. Ryou noticed the sudden change in Seto's demeanor and immediately felt guilty; he had not thought much about his comment offending the man.

The aristocrat had risen from where he sat as if to leave, making Ryou feel all the more guilty with each passing second of awkwardness between them. Here he was, invited courteously into the man's home, and what does he do to repay such generosity? He insults his host albeit unintentionally.

"I, I'm sorry…I meant no disrespect, I was merely joking." Tense and feeling as if being judged falsely, chocolate brown eyes couldn't help but move from one point to another in nervousness under the gaze of such an accusing glare.

Seto closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, "I'm sure people have told you of what they think of me. Go on, narrate it all to me, I already know what I'm thought to be." this was spoken with spite for everyone, and hate for every single person who ever dared judge him through his father's image.

Sadness reflected in Ryou's eyes as he witnessed how self-destructive his dark knight could be. Through the words and whispers of others Seto knew what fearing perception people had of him. And it did not bother him that this was so, but the fact that Ryou, whose voice had touched and pulled at him, would or might think him to be the vile antagonist everyone so eloquently places him as made his blood run cold.

Cold as those lonely nights wherein he spent his dreary life locked behind towering doors of mahogany and dark wood, skimming endlessly through various articles and works by political economists and theorists. He could have laughed at the stupidity of it all.

Comforting lithe arms wrapped themselves upon Seto's tense form. Ryou was holding him. And odd as it may seem, this simple act provided a sense of contentment for both men.

"I promise you, I meant no disrespect Signore. I don't believe in what others say about you, but please, allow me to see for myself, with my own eyes, who you truly are." Seto's scent filled Ryou's senses as he laid his cheek firmly upon the patrician's fine-clothed back, his arms were wrapped securely around the other man's torso while they both stood there unmoving, basking in the afternoon breeze entering the Salon through the open doors of the balcony. Tighter, he held onto Seto, as if begging for the man to be patient with him.

"Really…you are…an enigma, Ryou" a hand adorned with a blue-gemmed ring tapped lightly on pale arms, "An enigma that wants to solve another enigma? How ironic can we be? A masked idol wanting to unravel the identity of a faceless statue…how ludicrous indeed! You and I…"

"I want…I want to know you Signore. I have no idea why…but I feel such a need to learn more of this character you have. Allow me this minor privilege, I ask of you. In return, I swear myself to you, and the songs in my heart will be for you to listen and feel warmth to, just as long as you receive the friendship I offer. I know that if time allows us, you and I can be like brothers, understanding each other as if bound by blood."

An amused smirk was all Seto showed as his stance remained unwavering, "You must really want everyone, even I, to love you. You offer your friendship to me as if it were a pouch of diamonds, are you really such a person who wants none to be his enemy and all to be his ally?" he asked.

"I just…" Ryou let go of Seto who turned to face him directly, such clear blue eyes were looking down at imploring innocence.

"You offer your voice to me whenever I wish in exchange for my presence and support? Very well then, it all seems amusing enough." With a simple wave of a hand the aristocrat agreed, making the soprano smile with glee, "But I must warn you…there are things about me that you will never understand or accept, and soon enough you will leave, just as those before you have." The latter was spoken with hidden grief and threat.

As Ryou watched his gracious host leave the Salon, he couldn't help but feel the slightest bit unnerved at the rather vindictive warning. But even so, he was determined to win the man's trust, he had no idea as to why he felt a pull towards the cold prince, all he knew was that underneath those fine robes and that rather intimidating allure was a man who could feel like no other could.

He vowed that he would not give up on his unsympathetic friend, he would do absolutely everything to give Seto what was thought to have been lost, irreplaceable, and past all hopes of retrieval. A heart, as any person is meant to have.

With determination gleaming in his eyes, the soprano smiled his usual smile, masking and pushing away the uncertainties, ready to head on towards the day to face what ever obstacles this new friendship would bring. But first, he simply must get dressed.

A horse-driven carriage made its way through the streets of Venice, its occupants rather worried if not angered about a certain soprano's disappearance. Upon waking up at twelve noon due to last night's excessive liquor consumption, Yami had found their guest's room vacant with no Ryou in sight. The servants had searched every corner and crevice of the Palazzo Mutou but with no such luck. That was when Yugi had suggested that they check on Signore Kaiba who might know where Ryou was. Yami took this the wrong way.

Barging in through the massive double doors of the entrance, the siblings entered the Palazzo Kaiba urgently as servants of the house begged them to stop and not to bother the master of the house. A servant girl was pleading with Yami, whose expression was of pure hate, not to intrude in any business the master might be currently conducting, Yugi trailed behind with worry apparent on his face.

"Seto! Come out here at once!" Yami bellowed. His regal voice echoed throughout the halls along with the sound of his pounding footsteps upon the polished floor.

Seto came out from his study, the usual frown firmly in place upon his face, "How dare you suddenly march into my home uninvited! Yelling my name like a common hoodlum nonetheless!" he scowled venomously, making the younger Mutou flinch and seek shelter behind his brother.

Having just finished his violin lessons, Mokuba arrived at the main hall to find his brother arguing with a long-time rival, the younger Kaiba smiled silently, it was these petty quarrels that kept his older brother humane.

"All right, that's enough from the both of you." The raven-haired boy interrupted, taking his place between the two just as he used to in the old days whenever the rivals would debate about which was better, Archery or Fencing? "Yami, it's been long since we've had you here, what, pray tell, is the occasion for this visit?"

"Yes…do tell, Yami. What brings you here to 'your hell that is my home'?" Seto spat sarcastically in the background as Yami glared back at him.

"What is going on here? I heard yelling." The one person everyone was fussing over suddenly emerged, already dressed in last night's white frock coat of course, "Yami? Yugi?"

"Ryou!" immediately, Yugi sauntered towards the missing youth and wrapped his arms around the singer's neck. Seto felt something within him boil upon seeing the two's closeness. Ryou was supposed to be his.

"Oh Ryou! We were worried sick! We couldn't find you in your room or anywhere at home-"

"This? Is where you've been all along?" Yami spurred, aghast at the notion, "What happened to you Ryou?" he said, immediately assuming the worst of things.

"I'm terribly, terribly sorry everyone, oh such an inconvenience this has all been." The soprano replied, "I…I confess, I slipped away from my quarters last night-"

"He made you leave didn't he? He must've forced you! Poisoned you with his lies and-"

"Oh be quiet Mutou! Your arrogant assumptions are beginning to annoy me!"

"Arrogant? I am in no way arrogant! You're the arrogant one!"

"Watch that mouth of yours midget!"

"Midget?! At least I'm not some egotistic snake who kidnaps famous opera singers!"

"Again with the assumptions, have you no sense for proving or is pointing those accusing midget fingers the only thing you're capable of? Your brain's probably midget-sized as well, too small for you to conduct a proper investigation for proof with."

"Shut up snake! You and your scientific proving methods! And what is it exactly with you fashioning a black coat on a sunny day such as today? Do you think yourself to be a vampire? Go on! Turn into a bat and jump out a window!"

"You never were very bright when it came to insults. That last sentence was rather cliché."

"Not bright? I've beaten you in twelve straight games of chess when we were 10 years old!"

"And apparently, time has not been kind to your size. After all these years you still look like an ignorant child!" Seto laughed mockingly.

"Why you!"

"Please!" before the rivals could start a brawl, Ryou quickly intervened, pulling back Seto as Yugi enticed Yami to calm down, "certainly the both of you can stay in the same room without bickering like children." He said sternly that it was almost comical seeing all this.

How amusing it was to watch two youths so close to becoming full adults suddenly turn back into their old habits of taunting each other like young children. But it was these taunting and immature mockeries that kept them all together through the harsh and trying years, it was a bond yes but a rather hateful one at that, nevertheless it was all harmless quarrel, this was their way of being friends through their high prides.

"Everyone, the truth is I…"momentarily Ryou sighed and then acted, "Last night I went out alone to ride a gondola for a few minutes seeing as I have never had the opportunity to do so upon my arrival in this city. When I got off and bid the gondolier goodbye I found myself in an unfamiliar street, it's all rather silly of me really, I had stupidly walked up to a stranger's home instead of boarding another gondola that could've taken me back to the Palazzo Mutou." He lied perfectly with a smile.

"It just so happened that the home I approached was Signore Kaiba's. Silly isn't it?" there seemed to be no trace of falseness in the seemingly truthful youth's words, reluctantly Yami reluctantly apologized to Seto who inwardly smirked triumphantly at Ryou's little performance.

"All right then, now that we've all gotten this whole misunderstanding cleared up, shall we head for the Salon?" Mokuba spoke, leading the visitors to the Grand Salon as Ryou and Seto followed behind.

An odd pair boarding a gondola watched the high balcony of the magnificent Palazzo Kaiba, they observed with a glint of feral instinct in their eyes as if they were predators waiting for the kill. These strangers were humbly dressed in what looked to be travelers' clothes, with their worn out boots and threadbare coats they seemed to be simple penniless wanderers.

One was built but not unnecessarily bulging, with eyes the color of red wine and skin that was slightly tanned and darkened from the long years spent under the heat of the sun. His hair was of an unnatural color, white just as Ryou's was although shorter and thorny. Upon his right eye was a slash-shaped scar and on his face was a treacherous expression showing that he was not to be dealt with lightly.

The other half of the pair was a young man with long feathery-blond hair and exotic lavender eyes. Like his partner he was tanned all over, but with an average physique and distinct golden earrings hanging from his ears, although he dressed like a commoner.

As the vessel moved farther and farther way from the balcony, the duo's gaze did not waver. A single word was uttered by the scarred one, "He is there." He said simply.

Lavender eyes turned towards red-colored ones, "Are you certain that it is him?" the foreigner asked.

"Yes, I am certain…it's him."

Explanations:

Waking up late- In the old days, proper ladies were not supposed to wake up at noon since this was simply not done. Since I'm portraying Ryou as a rather effeminate character in this old-style story, I thought that it would be best if he was slightly treated as a lady, for an ironic effect, to form a vague bond between him and Seto.

Being nude- since I'm portraying Ryou as a slightly effeminate character, I made him react as a woman would upon discovering that he had been undressed. Seto was rather unfazed about Ryou's embarrassment since around this early stage he thinks of himself as a man who does not feel love for another man. Apparently in this stage, Seto is not sexually attracted to Ryou yet.

The bickering- I am well aware that Seto and Yami's bickering seems to be something that Joey and Seto are supposed to be doing, but I had to make some sort of primary emotional connection between the two childhood rivals, which of course means that I had to portray that they mutually 'hate' each other. This odd portrayal of their friendship is a one-time thing so don't worry about any future OOCness.

The odd pair- In case someone didn't get it, it's Bakura and Malik. And no, Marik will not be appearing in this story. My Bakura here is the tanned Thief King version ok, that'll all be explained in the future chapters.

Necro: I'm sorry for not updating right away! Really I am! I'm trying my best to make this fic but it's so hard to write, what with all the old style writing and the mannerisms. THANK YOU by the way, for putting this fic in the Euroshipping C2! Really appreciate it!

**Give your comments through reviews. But please, no flaming, if this story is not to one's tastes, one should not flame it or insult it because the writer is only human.**


	5. Chapter IV

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh or any related merchandise.

Venetian Romance

o0 Chapter IV 0o

o00o

Cheerful music filled the Grand Salon in which five individuals conversed and shared with each other different issues on politics and opera. Graceful fingers glided over the keys of a harpsichord, pressing down one or two or three simultaneously to weave a string of consistent notes, notes which Ryou sang in tune with. Yami was debating with Seto about matters concerning war, while Mokuba sat with Ryou and Yugi who was playing the harpsichord.

"_They say that this youth has set my lady's heart aflame!" _came Ryou melodious voice.

"_His lordship's sure to die of shock! His lordship is a laughing stock!" _Yugi and Mokuba followed.

"_Should he suspect her, God protect her, shame, shame, shame…This faithless lady is bound for Hades."_

They all sang in chorus, _"Shame! Shame! Shame!" _truly they enjoyed singing that song, for which Seto and Yami both hated alike, saying that its characters were rather ludicrous in their comedies.

One of the Palazzo's servant girls timidly walked up to Seto, curtseying respectfully before handing an envelope sealed with melted candle wax. Seto paused in the middle of his rhetoric come back to spare a glance at the offered letter, he took it from the servant's hands and gently tore open the eye-shaped wax seal to skim through its contents. The expression on his face seemed that of outrage, unconsciously he shifted in his seat to look over his shoulder where Ryou was as if he were holding the greatest of great secrets in his hands.

It seemed that the three hadn't noticed the servant's intrusion seeing as they were going on with their merry ways. A whisper came out from Yami's mouth, "What is it?" he inquired, curious about the note.

Seto looked back at Yami, pondering whether or not to tell his rival about the letter, he thought the latter, "It is none of your concern I assure you. Just some petty business that needs to be handled." With that said Seto unceremoniously crumpled the piece of paper and pocketed it in his tailored coat.

Although it wasn't his place to delve deeper into the subject, Yami felt propelled to ask further, "Surely you can tell me if it truly is as insignificant as you say it is. What is there for you to hide Seto?" he challenged the host.

At this point, the others had taken notice of the commotion brewing at the rivals' side of the room, "what are you fighting about this time brother?" Yugi asked Yami, his eyes were sincere and full of question.

Everyone grew curious, this, Seto did not want, "It is nothing." He said monotonously, standing up to leave the Grand Salon in order to escape any further interrogations.

Pairs of wondering eyes followed the tall and regal figure of Seto Kaiba, no doubt interested about the reason behind the aristocrat's hasty exit. "What was that about Yami?" Ryou finally asked after a few seconds of pause since Seto's departure.

"I honestly have no clue, but he seemed quite secretive about it, he claims that it was unimportant but I feel that there is more to that letter of his. I've known him for a long time and am very empathic to his sudden mood changes, this, however, was absolutely off." Yami replied, getting up from where he sat.

o00o

Obscure beams of sunlight entered the strangely closed and guarded study of the Palazzo Kaiba in which the master of the house himself was dwelling in for the mean time. He had desperately needed the privacy of his personal study which was also, in a way, his very own world crammed meticulously within the room's book lined walls. Clutched within the palm of his right hand was a simple note sent by a man he loathed with a passion.

He uncharacteristically leaned his back against the pair of double doors and looked up the ceiling with an angered expression. The words in that letter were still freshly clear in his mind's eye and he could not help but feel slightly disoriented with the dishonor that could be brought upon his family name if this secret were to be revealed.

This secret was not some act of thievery, or murder, or adultery he'd committed…it had been his father's folly, passed onto him by blood.

It was debt. Gozaburo Kaiba, during his frivolous lifetime, had put the Kaiba family into a confidential debt, one that up until now has not been paid in full. Day by day, month by month, year by year, this debt grows like an evil seed spurring from the nurturing ground, and with it brings much chaos upon the planter's sons.

Now that Gozaburo was no more, this debt was Seto's debt, it was now Seto's crisis, says the note.

_I congratulate you Kaiba-boy, for becoming the master of your house. I also offer my condolence on behalf of your father's…departure, 'May flocks of angels wing thee to thy rest.'_

_I have been your father's friend, and you know that we have shared years of difficulties and ambitions, dreams and troubles, he has always been a trusted comrade of mine, therefore I am saddened to find that he has not kept his promise to me. For you see, he is indebted to me, he owes me a terribly huge sum of money from all those times he had asked for my financial aid. He has swindled a fortune out of me, and even though I am his companion I am not a saint who can simply wave a hand and forget such numbers._

_A fortnight from the time you receive this letter, I will be hosting a small gathering of sorts at my villa, I am quite sure you remember where it is, that is if your memory has not failed you. But incase you have forgotten, I will be sending one of my carriages to take you and any other acquaintances you might want to invite along. We will further discuss your late father's debt at the party. I look forward to seeing you and your dear little brother again._

_Sincerely,_

_M. Pegasus Crawford_

Pegasus Crawford was an unusual man, he was French and was one who liked strangeness, in fact, Seto had always thought of him to be a mad man. This eccentricity was probably the reason for Gozaburo's association with him, that and his immense wealth of course. Since childhood, Seto had always felt uncomfortable whenever he was around the French man, there had been times wherein he would be left all alone with the weird one in a quiet room, and then all of sudden Pegasus would childishly call out to him. 'Kaiba-boy, Kaiba-boy' he would coo the young Seto, much to Seto's dismay.

It wasn't that Pegasus was an evil man, he simply wasn't conventional. But even so, Seto always made it his point to be cautious; there was always that chance that someone as unreadable as Pegasus Crawford would become a conniving fox.

Walking towards a slightly opened window, Seto ripped the note into small pieces and threw the bits of paper away for the wind to carry. Some bits landed on the waters of the canal, some soared higher and higher as thoughts raced within Seto's mind. After a few moments of contemplation, Seto's eyes returned to their usual impassiveness. Such a mess his spiteful father left him, such a mess indeed.

o00o

A beautiful villa in the middle of a lush garden just outside of Venice stood magnificently in its splendor, old vines climbed up its walls to create a delicate weave of intricate leaf patterns, offering more variety of design to the house's white and beige painted walls. An assortment of flowers were scattered here and there amongst bushes that framed the whole domain, it seemed as if the villa was in itself a tangible mortal Eden.

Sitting quietly with a poetry book in his hands was Pegasus Crawford, a care-free smile could be seen on his face as his one good eye, salvaged from battle, skimmed through the contents of the book. Amusement was apparent on his expression as he read a line that made him laugh, how ludicrous must that sentence have been to draw out such fondness?

A knock was heard, Pegasus neatly placed his book on a table, uttering a joyous 'come in' to the person outside his door. "Ah, it's you! Please sit, would you like some tea?" he offered to the guest, friendly as ever.

"Have you invited him?" came Malik's voice, a plot evident in his tone.

"Yes, I've already sent him a letter detailing his situation." Replied Pegasus, "In a fortnight, we will discuss his debt here as the party rages on, it's a pity you won't attend. Is there nothing I can do to entice you?"

"No, no, I have other things to tend to." With a swish from his cloak, Malik turned, "I will be off then," with that being said, he exited the room and made his way outside where his partner waited.

A carriage was waiting for him, and inside was his said partner lazily lounging around without a care but secretly contemplating more on their mysterious plot. Malik sat across from the relaxed companion, all the while wearily eyeing him. In all fairness, Malik had absolutely no idea what his dear friend was planning to do nor did he have a clue as to what the fiend's connection to the famous opera singer was. There was no grudge, no malice, but just a suspicious air to his friend's questionable script in which everyone was a pawn.

Their friendship had been a dizzying vortex of sorts, mixed with much confusion and hatred, but there was mutual brotherly understanding between them. Why, Malik could still remember their first encounter, in what season, he could not recall completely, but how they met he could reminisce as if it happened only yesterday.

'Bakura', that had been the name that his companion had supplied upon being asked. At that time, Bakura was a young vengeful boy, merely 10 years of age, but he looked much frailer and weaker at that time, with longer white-blond hair, different to the one he was fashioning today, and pale skin littered with bruises and cuts from abuse.

The bravo who was in charge of expunging the poor child from Venice had claimed to have been sent to that particular country by the boy's step-father who was incidentally a man of prestige in Venice. The boy's mother was also one who came from a respected family, but she fell in love with a peasant and gave birth to him, Bakura. It seems that after ten years of secrets, his step-father finally discovered that he was actually the fruit of adultery. In rage, the step-father sent him there to the New World to live with a family of peasants, Malik's family, while his mother was disowned by her family and given to that mediocre peasant she had once bedded with.

Malik and Bakura had instantly become the best of friends as they were about the same age and were absolutely inseparable, they kept no secrets from each other and would play as if they truly were brothers by blood. Even though Bakura knew that his adoptive family had been paid to raise him, he could not help but feel quite attached to them.

But despite this family's true love for him, he could not wave away the immense hatred he felt for his aristocrat of a step-father for sending him away and for taking him from his mother. This grudge grew as the years passed, and as he grew older and wiser he acquired a built body and a slightly tanned complexion from all those days he lived in poverty with Malik. Today, he was of age and was in Venice, spinning his web of deceit and lies to lure in the very people he wanted to take his revenge on.

o00o

After a nice glass of perfectly aged wine and a few minutes to straighten up himself, Seto's mask was once again back in place as if it had never been severed by the slight shock from the letter. He returned to the Grand Salon looking unfazed and normal with his usual façade and his aristocratic stance. With the prideful gestures of a patrician, he moved and sat beside his rival, accentuating his superiority complex once again and taking his part as the master of the house.

"Seto, where were you? I've been searching for you for a while, were you in our study?" Mokuba asked, knowing that his brother would never have left so suddenly to disappear to his sanctuary because of a trivial matter such as a letter.

"Yes, I was merely checking if I had any upcoming engagements." The masking youth replied, "It seems that we've been invited to a party to be held a fortnight from now."

"Invited? Who, dear brother, is graciously hosting this gathering?"

"Surely you recall…that man…" at this point, Seto glanced at Yami whose frown deepened in understanding.

"My God, it's him? That Pegasus, he must have some nerve to invite us…I swear that man has had some nefarious plot to annoy us since the very beginning of our childhood." Said Yami, clearly he shared the same views of Pegasus with Seto.

Ryou and Yugi stood up from where they sat and joined in with the conversation, "Who is this 'Pegasus' you so abhor?" asked Ryou.

Yugi smiled at the innocent and answered before Seto and his brother started ranting about the Frenchman's absurdities in vulgar detail, "Monsieur Pegasus Crawford, he is a man from our childhood whom we've commonly felt…uncomfortable with." He started.

"He…has a way with words. He plays the friendly Uncle with the mind of a crazed lunatic. I suppose you could say he's eccentric, sometimes he's just so annoying…but nevertheless he's harmless most of the time."

"Harmless? Hmph! That madman once shot me!" came Yami's sarcastic drawl.

"Still haven't forgotten that tragic incident? It was a scratch, a flesh wound for heaven's sake."

"I was only five and a half Seto! You can't blame me for thinking I was dying." retorted Yami, "Sane men do not shoot five year old boys when teaching them how to swim."

"Nor do they threaten to drop you off the edge of a balcony for eating sweets before dinner." Mokuba added.

"Yes…He was ludicrously mad, once asking me to eat rat poison to see if I was polite enough to agree." Followed Seto, reminiscing all those times he had spent within close proximity to the insane. Most times of which had been for 'lessons in life' and most lessons of which had been taught with various threats on his life.

"Well…he seems…odd, for lack of a better word." Spoke Ryou, not really knowing what to say after hearing what had been divulged about Pegasus. Now even he was growing weary of the said man, and he hadn't even met this person yet!

"Ryou will be coming along with us as well won't he dear brother?"

"Yes Mokuba, Ryou will tag along with us. It'll give him the opportunity to see more of Venice and enjoy the countryside as well. Perhaps he might even enjoy himself at the party. The madman's villa is, after all, something to look at, albeit the home of that crazed fool."

Noticing the weary look on the soprano's face, Yugi provided some sense of comfort for the poor youth, "There's no need to be alarmed Ryou, as I've said, he's relatively harmless and most of the time he seems sane around adults. Just be sure you're close to us and everything will be all right."

"We'll be attending his party at his villa whether we like it or not." said Seto, scoffing at the stupidity of their situation. "You will be coming with us Ryou as my…acquaintance. And as for Yami and Yugi, since you've both been previously acquainted with Pegasus, you're coming along as well."

"I knew you would say that." Yugi sighed, receiving a comforting pat from the younger Kaiba who had a mischievous grin plastered on.

"Misery does love company."

Explanation/s:

The intro song- that song they were singing at the first part of this fic may sound familiar to those 'Phantom of the Opera' fans out there. It's the song that Carlotta sang on stage; her role was a cheating Countess while Christine was the Page boy. The lines narrate how the servants are thinking about their mistress' unfaithfulness to her husband who was away on business at that time.

Envelope sealed with candle wax- envelopes were sealed with melted candle wax that were formed into the sender's seal, in this case, the Millennium eye symbol is the candle wax seal that Pegasus uses.

M. Pegasus Crawford- 'M.' is, I think, the abbreviation for 'monsieur'.

Bravo- (not the compliment, I mean the term) sort of like one of Kaiba's bodyguards in the series.

Bakura's past- his mom's rich and was arranged to marry some rich guy but she fell in love with a peasant and gave birth to Bakura. Anyways, Bakura's mom got married to the rich guy and gave birth to him, rich dude didn't know that Bakura wasn't his son until Bakura was around the age of ten. When the rich dad found out that he wasn't Bakura's real dad, he sent Bakura to a foreign land coz he was pissed. Bakura's mom was disowned by her family and then forced to live with the peasant she fell in love with who was Bakura's real dad.

Pegasus the mad French man- I've always thought of Pegasus to be a little weird, even in the actual series. Sometimes he's so serious but next thing you know he's acting all immature. I wanted to put that craziness in.

**Review please and help contribute to the improvement of this fanfic, as for you flamers…don't come near me.**


	6. Chapter V

Necropolis demon

Disclaimer: YuGiOh and any of its characters are strictly the property of Kazuki Takahashi, I claim no ownership to this anime.

Venetian Romance

o0 Chapter V 0o

o00o

The days seemed to have passed too quickly for Seto Kaiba, who sarcastically thought a fortnight had come an eternity too soon. The night was splendidly calm and romantic in Venice, he noted absent-mindedly; the waters of the Venetian canals were still and glimmering under the light of the moon. Dressed in one of his finest garments of dazzling gold threads and royal blue cloths, the head of the House of Kaiba found himself standing patiently by the Grand Salon of his home, waiting for his comrades to be done with their preparations for the party they were to reluctantly attend.

Yami Mutou descended from the grand staircase first, wearing the most magnificent crimson garbs of royalty that made Seto roll his eyes in disgust; the Mutou had always had an obsession with entering a scene with immense flare like some sort of all-powerful deity. Next who came was the younger Kaiba sibling in light blue, followed by the younger Mutou who chose to be clothed in refined red, similar to that of his brother.

Then came last was the very essence of beauty himself, dressed in the purest of white and the warmest of yellow, all this accentuated by golden threads of intricate patterns beautifully stitched and fitted to every curve and bend of cloth he was adorned in. His hair kept nicely neat with a matching yellow ribbon of silk, his face powdered and person bathed in the sweetest of fragrances.

Ah…Ryou Bakura was surely going to be the center of all attention later this evening…

A look of concealed bewilderment was all Seto could give at the sight of one so perfect. Was this an angel sent to earth to flaunt such beauty amongst the eyes of us mortal men? Oh such thoughts raced in his head.

"Signore Kaiba, we must be off if we are to arrive on time. Monsieur Crawford must not be kept waiting." The chauffeur interrupted his reverie.

At once he regained his composure, "Well then, let us be off." He said half-heartedly, dreading what was to come.

"Towards our impending doom then." Mokuba muttered, equally loathing their ever closing hell. They entered the carriage and without another moment of waste proceeded towards their destination.

o00o

The villa was, to put it in the simplest of terms, beautifully majestic to Ryou as he set foot upon its entrance and stared at the fine French design and detail. Every curve, every crevice of the huge estate utterly gleamed with the radiance of French artistry, this man Pegasus had truly fine taste. If Heaven were to have any sort of tangible form, this would be it.

"It hasn't changed a bit, save for the choice of garden flowers." Spoke Yami with Yugi standing by his side, "I wonder if Pegasus has changed." He added as an afterthought.

"I strongly doubt it, that man's beyond any form of reversal. But enough of that, we've come for a party and a party we shall endure." Said Kaiba, with a slight scowl etched on his features.

"Don't you mean enjoy?" corrected Ryou.

"No, endure. You forget, we are in _his _turf." This brought out a whimper from the soprano as their group made its way into the Salon.

From a corner of the crowded Salon, Pegasus Crawford stood with his wine glass at hand and his stiletto kept perfectly hidden within his tailored vest, ready for anything. His one good eye surveyed the scene of drunken merriment and flirtatious conversation. He flinched in disgust at the sight of government pigs offering wine to such an innocent young lady. Had this been Paris, those pigs would've been ousted and expelled from his home in one breath, but this was not Paris, this was not his homeland, he had no such power against such aristocratic filth. Yes, yes, smile for now as the wine intoxicates, and perish later when you find yourself at the mercy of vengeful cutthroats, corrupted misfits.

As he tilted his glass to his lips, one of his young servants came up and spoke to him in secrecy, "Monsieur, we have been informed that Signore Kaiba has arrived along with four comrades, all of which don't seem to be his bravos, merely friends we suspect." The servant boy informed, receiving a nod from the Frenchman.

"Perfect, do bring me Kaiba-boy, and be quick about it." Pegasus replied, "Oh, and be on the look out for any posted bravos other than my own, I want to be certain that Kaiba-boy hasn't brought any of his men to spoil this party." He added.

As the servant boy disappeared from his line of sight, Pegasus turned to make his exit, quietly escaping from the boisterous sounds of laughter and slipping out of the Salon's drunken menagerie. Onwards to his quarters he strolled, not sparing a second glance to any of the distasteful guests he so disgusted in.

And then, there it was, a sole figure accidentally caught in his sights and quite incidentally caught in the sights of other guests as well by the said figure's imminent splendor. Sensual, beautiful, divine; all this he found in that passing person. Who could this glorified youth being given secret fawning glances be? His eyes followed the beauty's progress through the room of following eyes he had just left. The youth paused for a moment as if sensing someone potentially dangerous watching but then shrugged the feeling off to continue on his way.

It had been fleeting, the moment he saw that youth whose poise stirred some interest within him. The individual had been quite the eye-catcher, that hair, that skin, and those innocent doe eyes. A smile made itself apparent on the French host's face. Oh this would most definitely be an interesting party indeed.

o00o

Only a few minutes, that was all it took for Ryou Bakura to be lost and utterly submerged deep into the waves of frolicking guests, all of which he did not know. He had simply been obediently following Seto as their group walked into the villa, parting tides of gawking people merely with Seto's intense glare and prestigious air. Now, alone and utterly feeling vulnerable under the attention of the other guests, Ryou sauntered and drifted from here to there in hopes of spotting any of his friends.

By accident, the opera singer found himself outside the Salon and beyond its borders, all alone in an empty hallway with its mix of beige and detailed walls reminding him of how utterly French the whole villa's theme was. Paintings of flowers and landscapes and all sorts of magnificently luxurious scenarios hung on the walls, a window at the far end was adorned with brilliantly green curtains.

As he walked aimlessly along the hall, he spotted a man with a glass of champagne, standing all alone in the dark, drinking as if the taste had no life per se. The man's gaze shifted towards the youth, Ryou couldn't help but feel slightly alarmed at the momentary glitter of gold he saw coming from the seemingly empty eye socket hidden behind such long strands of the stranger's silver hair.

"Why hello there," the man greeted gaily, his arms stretched in a welcoming gesture, "Why aren't you in the Salon along with the other guests?" he inquired.

Ryou gave a nervous laugh then answered, "I seem to have gotten myself lost signore. My friends, I cannot find them."

The man approached Ryou with elegant strides, poised and proper with a friendly smile. One eye shone with friendliness to it as he spoke, "Well then, I say you wait for them somewhere and have a servant look for them instead." He said.

"Yes, I suppose that would be wise."

"Ah, mon ange, please allow me to escort you to a room so as to make sure you don't tire yourself so."

"Why, I thank you signore, this help is much appreciated…err…'mon ange'?"

A chuckle made itself apparent, the stranger replied, "Excuse my French, it is my sobriquet for you mon ange, a nickname my angel."

"My, how flattering, an angel, of all things."

They walked down and through various halls of satin draperies and expensive portraits then made their way up the grand staircase, the soles of their shoes sounding against the polished marble floor. How charming did the lost youth seem to the one-eyed man, whose gaze upon such flawless milk-white skin did not ever waver for more than a few seconds to blink momentarily? Graceful and fluid in every movement, the sheer loveliness of a dancer perhaps, thought the Frenchman as he observed his charge.

At last after minutes of strolling through the corridors of the vast home, the two arrived at a masterly bedroom which was quite as grand and spacious as Seto's had been back at the Palazzo Kaiba, Ryou compared. The kind man gestured for Ryou to sit down on the poster bed's soft cushions; of course, the youthful male hesitated to take a seat on someone's bed at first, but decided to do so after receiving a reassuring smile from the stranger.

"So tell me mon ange, what is your name?" asked the man, as he poured for himself and his lovely guest two fine glasses of red wine.

"Ryou Bakura, and you signore? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with anyone remotely French, are you a close friend of this party's host? For you seem to know your way through this home's labyrinth halls quite well."

An amused laugh was all that the stranger gave as a reply to the inquiring youth's question.

o00o

"Yugi, does Ryou have even the slightest idea of what Pegasus looks like?" came young Mokuba's question.

"I'm afraid he doesn't, unless you and Seto have described Pegasus to him in full detail." replied Yugi. The young Kaiba merely shook his head no, thus elevating their worries.

For the past few minutes since their arrival, the young Venetian princes have been looking for any signs of Ryou amidst the many people in the room. They had lost track of him a while ago when some fat pompous old man had managed to obscure their sight of the singer who had been following their trail a mere three feet away. If this party had been like any other party, they wouldn't have had much to worry about, but seeing as this was a party hosted by their childhood nightmare, they could not deny themselves the right to worry and fret as they were doing so at this moment.

From what stories they'd heard in the past, Monsieur Pegasus Crawford was in truth a very decent man if he wasn't drunk or in his rather crazed stupor. People who knew the madman knew of course of his intimate fascination with all things beautiful, which was the reason why he so fully enjoyed the company of both young women and young men.

Young, gorgeous, ravishing men like Seto Kaiba whose handsomely sculpted features equaled to that of a mortal Adonis brought into sinfully perfect flesh, and Yami Mutou whose vigor and presence was attractive enough to draw in anyone who had an eye for the exotic.

Where does dear innocent Ryou fit into all this? One might ask, but look forth as he is the very embodiment of lust in flesh and touch, he is the very image of an ethereal sprite, a god amongst the beautiful, an angelic icon deterred not by wear or error. So he fits, rightly to Pegasus's fantasies.

One of the villa's resident servant boys came up to Seto, politely lowering his head to show respect before being addressed by the aristocrat. "What is it?" Seto spoke to the servant, looking down at the said boy.

The boy looked up, "Monsieur Pegasus wishes to speak with you Signore Kaiba, privately in his quarters if you don't mind, he thinks it to be appropriate for the nature of your talk."

Seto scowled. Must this conversation take place now of all times? When they were occupied with finding their missing companion? "He wishes for you to be quick, best for you not to waste anymore time Signore, lest the master's patience betray him." The servant boy spoke, as if knowing the internal struggle Seto had.

The scowl deepened, Seto looked back at his brother who gave a nod for him to proceed, "Do come back as promptly as you can dear brother, so that we may search for Ryou more efficiently." With that said, Seto slipped out of the Salon and made his way up towards where he knew the host's quarters were at from the memory of his childhood visits.

Without even a knock, he made his rude and unannounced entrance, pushing back the intricately carved double-doors and barely able to hold back the gasp of morbid shock that almost left him. The sight before him…was beyond horrid, it was an abomination.

There lay Ryou, covered in silken sheets tinged with the deep color of crimson, sleeping in the very bed Pegasus sat upon with a mischievous smirk.

Oh good Lord no…

o00o

After Seto had left, the group immediately resumed their search for Ryou. "You say that you are searching for your missing companion Signori?" asked the servant boy.

"Yes we are, he's dreadfully innocent and well…I honestly don't trust this crowd, if you know what I mean boy." Yami replied.

"What does he look like Signore?"

"Uncommonly pale hair and complexion, makes you think of snow at first glance."

"Like Ryou Bakura, _Il Divino Voce_, the famous opera singer?"

"That's him we're looking for!" the two Mutous and young Kaiba all but shouted their response with intensity, drawing the attention of a few gentlemen who were not drunk enough not to care.

"_Il Divino Voce_? Is here at this party Signori? But how can that be? Monsieur Pegasus has not even met or heard of him or of his talent, the master has been deprived of such news by his recent travels and by his isolation in this villa, how could-?"

"He attends as an acquaintance of ours, a personal guest of my brother's and a friend of the Mutou family seeing as they have been his hosts and somewhat his patrons during his stay here in Venice." Mokuba explained.

"Ah, so I see…" silence.

The older Mutou male raised an eyebrow, "Why the silence boy? Something worries you about our predicament?" he interrogated, "Do you know of something that could lead us to him?"

"Not quite so, unless you ask aid from the master's bravos…I was merely speculating Signore."

"Do voice out these thoughts of yours."

The servant boy gave a nervous sigh then spoke unevenly and unsure, "Well, _Il Divino Voce_…all alone…in this titan of a home…the master…has some inclination to liking beauties such as Signore Ryou Bakura…and the apparent anonymity he has to the master…Oh I dare not go on should my tongue slander the master's name!" the youth cried out and ran from the guests…guiltily?

Worried glances were shared at the boy's implications of such atrocious possibilities that could happen to their beloved Ryou, Yami's mind could not put itself to rest as various scenarios flooded his head in a colorful stream of disturbingly vivid situations Ryou was in, one in particular made him catch his breath and profusely blush. Mokuba and Yugi, as naïve young ones themselves, knew not the full measure of occurrences that troubled the usually in control Yami, this uncertainty and fear in the older Mutuo's eyes intensified the sense of dread that the younger ones felt themselves.

What could possibly be so awful that Yami would be so very distressed? This, the two did not know to its full extent, much better for them not to know of such horrors anyway.

Ignorance was bliss, after all.

Necro: dun, dun, dun…what did Seto see? What did he lay witness to? Mwahahah! Man, I'm retarded. This is such a difficult fic to write, DO YOU KNOW HOW IT HAS AFFECTED ME? I'm mean SERIOUSLY I've been talking like some 17th century lady of Italy in my classroom for days! _'But sir, you haven't fully explained to us as to why we must have this dreadfully difficult, and might I add, awfully long test. Do all teachers have some nefarious plot to torture the innocents of this classroom?' _that's me during History. The teacher was all _'Does she get straight A's in English and Literature?'_ and the class was all _'she doesn't even know what an adverb is sir' _

Explanation/s:

Fortnight- 2 weeks or 14 days

Villa- is a country home; luxurious vacation home.

Servant boy- seriously, if you're stinking rich in the old days, you gotta have a servant boy!

Per se- in itself (I don't really know how to use this, it just came out I swear)

Mon ange- French for 'my angel'

Sobriquet- playful nickname

_Il Divino Voce_- Italian, roughly translates to 'The Divine Voice' which is a made up stage name I made for Ryou. Opera singers have stage names you see, I'm not sure about male opera singers though so I kind of just winged this part.

**Review and give me your intelligent comments and suggestions.**

**Flamers beware for I have a rabid French guy here, ready to kill.**


End file.
